


Vesper

by Alastael



Series: Somatic Observances [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Comeplay, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Dominant Castiel, Frottage, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Implied Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Implied Switching, M/M, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Slapping, Submissive Sam, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1054016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alastael/pseuds/Alastael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a meditation, an exercise in mutual reverence that has evolved into something else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vesper

Sam follows the careful way Castiel’s fingers weave the rope up the length of his right arm, eyes wide but placid. It’s a meditation, an exercise in mutual reverence that has evolved into something else entirely, but no less venerative.

He never looks up, Cas’s attention weighing heavily on his conscious, but with every knot pressed into his flesh, Sam’s anxiety lessens, tension melting from his mind. It reminds him of the way he has seen Dean’s body release, loose and pliant under the angel’s ministrations.

"You will tell me if it’s too tight?" The apprehension creeping into Cas’s voice forces Sam to meet his gaze, and he flexes, arm twisting against the soft coils of fabric.

"It’s fine, Cas." The smile is small and reassuring, but it’s enough, and Cas turns his attention to the left arm. The process is slow, but it gives Sam a necessary moment to clear his head, to remember what it was that brought them here. To remind himself that they are worth it.

When it came out that Cas and Dean were involved, Sam hadn’t batted an eye. He had grinned and made some joke about the inevitability of it, jealousy pooling at the base of his spine. He grew snappish and distant, nurturing a bone-deep resentment about the unfairness of it. He knew, truly, his brother deserved as much happiness as anyone, as much love, but haunting Sam was the loneliness. Why didn’t he get to keep anyone?

Cas had intuition replacing what had once been angelic mojo, but he retained an unyielding need to serve, to worship, and the altar he had chosen was Winchester. Sam had been asleep, sprawled face-down across the leather couch in the bunker’s study. He awoke with Cas’s firm fingers rubbing slow circles into the flesh of his back, and as the strain in his muscles released, he felt the soft, wet press of Cas’s mouth on the back of his neck. Sam’s reluctance to give in, to be the (other) subject of Cas’s affection had led them here.

It’s symbiotic, a mutually beneficial outlet for them both.

When it’s complete, Sam is not unlike a bow, the gentle curve of his body held by the ropes wound artfully around his arms and legs. He can still move, though he has little desire to; when he rolls his shoulders back and down, relaxing into his restraints, Castiel’s eyes light up with warmth, with _love_ , and Sam has to close his eyes.

"Okay."

The blindfold is the last part of it, and isn’t always there. Sometimes, Cas wants to see the moment Sam breaks. Others, Sam must see Castiel’s adoration to believe it.

This is the hardest part, the part when the tension returns just briefly, and Sam worries. But the first gentle brush of Cas’s fingers along the wing of Sam’s hip makes them both sigh. The arms bound beneath his spine arch his chest up, and as he breathes, Cas’s fingers pull back, ghosting over the flesh. It makes Sam tremble, the barely-there caress of his brother’s angel, and his throat constricts around a soft, needy noise.

"Sam," Cas breathes from his place between Sam’s legs, the word warm against the inside of his thigh and he bucks reflexively. He knows this isn’t what Cas wants - he should be relaxed, calm and pliant to the worship Cas intends to bestow on his body, but he can’t help it. He just _needs_.

Fingers, more insistent, spread over his stomach and Sam’s breath quickens as they drag down to squeeze his thigh, rubbing gently up and down. Comforting. Cas’s thumb slips into the space between his thigh and balls and Sam twitches again.

"Beautiful," Cas murmurs, and this. This is what Sam waits for, aches for. "Sam. You are so beautiful."

Sam whimpers as Cas massages his thighs, always just missing his cock. It’s teasing, and it makes him writhe and twist, seeking the friction for release. Cas hisses, hands tightening on Sam to still the motion, and though he can’t see it, Sam knows the effect he’s having. It makes him grin, wolfish.

It fades as soon as Cas pulls back, robbing him of sensation. But he can do this, he can be patient (Cas has told him so) — so he stills and settles, sinking into the gentle pressure of the rope against his skin. This is a part of it, this exercise: acknowledging the sensations, the assault on both his physical and mental state caused by them both. It’s a lot: Sam’s expectations and disappointment, pain, desperation, pleasure. Cas’s tongue, his words, beliefs, and praise, his need.

The first time had been overwhelming, and Sam had wondered if this was how Castiel felt all the time, bound by his stolen flesh — trapped but floating, acutely aware of the onslaught of feeling but blissfully detached.

He shifts slightly in his bindings, and sighs. His erection throbs, woefully ignored. “Cas..?”

Sam hears the slap before he feels it, and he gasps. The heat and sting of it blossoms across the tender skin inside his thigh, and he chokes back hysterical laughter, because _what even is this_? How did this even happen? Cas should be somewhere else with _Dean_ , and Sam—

The second slap, strategically placed to the exact same spot, snaps him back into the moment, and he can feel the gentle prickling of tears forming. He sucks in a shuddering breath and holds it, waiting.

"Sam." Cas’s palm presses gently against the stinging skin, and Sam realizes the tension is back, his arms tight and pulling. He imagines it as particles, or maybe shards of glass, and as he breathes out slowly, he imagines that they dissipate, pressing up and out through his skin.

Cas sighs, “Good, Sam.”  
And a tongue, wet and warm, drags across the tip of his dick.

When Cas seals his mouth over the tip, a broken sob erupts from Sam’s mouth, and he fights the need to bury his cock in that heat. Tongue pressing gently into the vein, Cas hums and pulls up, off. “You are so good, Sam.”

He sounds winded, overwhelmed, and Sam grins through a gasp when Cas’s hand grips him at the base, dragging up and down the length. “You have been so good for me,” he murmurs into the skin, tongue pressing briefly into the slit. “You deserve to be rewarded.”

Sam growls, unable to stop his hips’ violent snap up. “Please. Please, Cas—”

Cas’s hands press into the groove of his hips when he finally takes him in, and as the head of his cock slides against the back of Cas’s throat, Sam wonders where he learns this shit. He was built with the need to please, to seek his release in the satisfaction of others, but this is above and beyond the call of duty. “Fuck, fuck—”

When he comes, Cas milks him dry, come sitting in his mouth as he gently suckles Sam’s softening dick. He swallows, and Sam hisses as he pulls away, over-sensitized and sore and satisfied. He feels Cas shift over him, straddling one leg as he reaches to rip the blindfold off.

Sam is disoriented, taking in the too-bright light of the room and Cas, glazed eyes wide as he ruts against Sam’s hip. “Cas, _oh_ —”

When they kiss, it’s a little too hard, a little too desperate. When they break apart, their breath mingles, foreheads pressed together. Cas whimpers softly, “Sam, _please_ —” as his hips grind down.

"Thank you, Cas, you were so good," Sam kisses at his cheek, his jaw, as Cas’s climax hits, coming on Sam’s stomach.

Sam is dizzy, Cas pressed against his chest and panting. He shifts, and ropes, his muscles, _burn_. Cas, sensitive Cas, peels himself up to pull at the knots’ release. He works Sam’s feet free first and helps him sit up, fingers moving to unwind the ropes twisting Sam’s arms together.

There’s a gentle tingle, the slow return of blood that Sam would swear he can feel in his veins. Cas is quiet, at first, but as he nears Sam’s wrists, he sighs. “I should have let you out before I —” He pauses, pulling the last of the bindings free and releasing Sam.

"Your hands are red," He says softly, watching Sam roll his shoulders and twist his body, working the soreness out. He looks down, opening and closing his hands clenching a fist, and shrugs, taking in the impression of the fabric in his skin. He smiles, and let’s his mind wander just briefly to Dean, if he gets to experience this, or if it’s just for them. He and Cas.

"I’m sorry."

Sam twists to face Cas. “What?”

"I’m sorry," he says again, somewhat louder. Without meeting Sam’s eyes, he lays down, curls up around him, his head in Sam’s lap.

He smiles, and brushes his fingers through Cas’s hair, watching the angel’s eyes close. Sam suspects he would be purring, if he could. “Don’t apologize. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

Cas blinks up at him, studying. As much as they praise each other, it never gets any easier to believe. “I was selfish.”

Sam laughs, shaking his head, and pulls Cas up into his lap. They kiss, languid and loving. Reassuring. He can feel Cas’s smile against his mouth and when he pulls away, Sam dips to trail his lips down his neck. Cas sighs.

"Good boy."

**Author's Note:**

> The blog [Dudes in Distress (NSFW)](dudesindistress.tumblr.com) has excellent examples of men in rope bondage/shibari/kinbaku, if you were curious. [This image](http://dudesindistress.tumblr.com/post/53404895262/flexible-boys-make-for-more-interesting-distress) and [this one](http://dudesindistress.tumblr.com/post/28200746996) apply more specifically to this story, and how Sam is bound. 
> 
> As a general disclaimer, **do not attempt anything you read or observe here without first thoroughly researching and understanding what you are doing and how to do it safely.** While I have done this, I am not an expert -- please do your research, play safe, and have fun.


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